Star Thrones: An Old Promise
by frenchship
Summary: A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away... The War of the Five Kings rages across the galaxy, and Queen Daenerys Targaryen has just struck her first victory against the evil King on the Iron Throne, stealing plans for the DEATH STAR, a space station powerful enough to destroy a planet. Hounded by the dogs of the Usurper, her ship races across the Galaxy, carrying its last hope...
1. Phantom Tincan

_A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away..._

_The War of the Five Kings rages all across the galaxy, and petty claimant Queen Daenerys of the House Targaryen has just struck her first victory against the evil King on the Iron Throne, stealing the plans for the DEATH STAR, a space station with enough power to destroy an entire planet. Pursued by the dogs of the Usurper, her ship races across the Galaxy, carrying its last hope._

* * *

In the vast, starry blackness of space, a small white ship fled from the dreaded super star destroyer known as _the King's Justice_ over a forested ice world, ever plagued by winter. Laserfire hounded it, and it had already sustained some damage in a battle just hours prior.

A tractor beam shot out from the destroyer, grasping at the smaller ship with invisible tendrils. The ship rose up into the _King's Justice'_s hangar, and was locked into place by massive mechanical arms descending from its stark white walls.

Aboard the ship, an iron door slid open forcefully. Fog poured into the white hallway as Queen Daenerys' Unsullied went into formation to defend against whatever threat deigned to board the starship. Stormtroopers filed through to either side of a tall smoky shadow wrought in the shape of a knight wearing a dragon's helm. But this man was no knight.

Immediately, blasters were firing from either side, and the tall shadow activated his ruby red lightsaber, deflecting back enemy blasts as though they were nothing. The laser sword swung through the air in pretty arcs and slashes so quick they were hard to follow. It was the true steel. He cut down one rebel, and then two, and then another, and then there were no more. Stormtroopers continued filing through, and he bellowed out with the voice of a commander "find the pretender, and bring her to **me **immediately!"

"Yes my lord," came the responses from the stormtroopers. They ran forward, and footfalls filled the halls of the ship, along with screams, and the sound of blaster fire.

Somewhere else on the ship, a fair skinned, platinum blonde, purple-eyed beauty dressed in blue and white crouched down to record a message on her astromech. The white droid recorded in silence, his lone red light shining through the fog. "Help me, Eddard Stark, you're my only hope," Queen Daenerys said as she finished recording the message. "Now, Ghost, you have served me well, but this is perhaps the most-important task I've set you to, get this message to Lord Stark." Blaster fire rang loudly around a corner, and a look of urgency went over Daenerys' face. "Hurry, Ghost!"

The astromech whirred into motion, rolling up into an open escape pod, which soon shot off in the direction of the icy world beneath them. The queen made a resolute face, and began walking in the direction of the blaster fire. Smoke and fog filled the halls, and she saw _him_ only when it was too late, and he stood right before her. "Vader," she spat. She would not honor him with any titles. This beast in a man's skin, cloaked in night, acting as some droid made only to kill, was no lord. And most certainly she would not call him _darth_. If he was no lord, he was no dragon either, whatever helm he wore.

"Lady Targaryen," he said. Courteous and cool. "Bend the knee. Bend the knee to his grace King Joffrey of the House Baratheon, and be spared a painful death. His Grace's Justice is most kind with the swing of his sword." She could feel the smile behind his helm. "If not, you will be tortured and Planet Dragonstone will be put to the torch, and then, and only then, may you die."

"I will not kneel to the baseborn abomination begotten of Lord's Tywin's incestuos brood," she said, and then she drew _Drogon_, her darksaber.

"You will," he said, drawing his own lightsaber.

* * *

Ghost's escape pod shot through the storm-racked atmosphere of the World of Winter beneath them. Frosty fang and fist-shaped mountains raced by, as did haunted forests, abandoned holdfasts, vast planes of ice, cold seas, and two massive walls of ice. Night became day, and day became night, as he circled the icy rock twice. He crash landed near a lake, smashing into a gold tower on an island in the middle of the lake, sending him flying into a snow drift as the tower fell apart.

Almost dizzily, the astromech made his way out the pod, moving through the snow speedily. He was made for this sort of environment.

He wandered for hours alone. And wandered for many more hours whilst being tailed by wildlings on mammoth-back. He knew much and more about them. This was a familiar place to him, the homeworld of his old master. She who named him.

He had surveyed its maps tens, and tens of times, and he knew exactly where he was headed. Soon enough, they would most like kidnap him and try to pawn him off to the Night's Watchmen at nearby Castle Black. Just as he thought this, they came out in force.

A redheaded wildling spearwife stepped out in front of him, "what ha' we got here? One o' them fancy outer space droids? You some star lord's toy?"

"What do you lot say? Ought we sell it to them crows down Castle Black way?" she asked, turning to her fellow wildlings.

"Aye, reckon the tincan's worth some sealskins, might be we get ourselves a cask of that fancy southron wine too!" one of them said.

"Aye, reckon we do, Ygritte," another said, smiling.

"It's decided then, we're taking you ta the wall," the redheaded girl, Ygritte, said, and they dragged him onto the back of their mammoth as two watchful moons set in the east.

* * *

Several wintry days of travelling followed. Ygritte had begun referring to the astromech as "husband," on account that she had kidnapped him, and in free folk culture, essentially married him. This drew guffaws of laughter from her companions every time, and they would often stop to make fires, and drink strong, bitter alcohol. Ghost was typically a silent astromech, leal and true, and at least in Queen Daenerys' eyes seemed to be special. She suspected that he was in some way attuned to the Force, in a manner that other droids simply were not.

Ghost observed that one wildling, Orell, a thin man with rags on his head, and a wispy brown beard and mustache, was powerful in the Force. He could walk in the skins of animals, and flew inside of an eagle-like creature. Ghost knew that eagles had once flown high above the skies of the ecumenopolis city-world of King's Landing, but were now extinct. He watched as Orell used his abilities to scout far ahead. Orell saw the Wall a half day's ride before any of them did.

Ghost silently wondered to himself how and why these humans had decided to settle here, on one of the most unforgiving territories of such an unforgiving world. He could not feel the biting cold, but his sensors told him that any normal men would have died many times over by now.

"Husband, I'm thinkin' tha you're wondering', ha' do these 'wildli_ngs_' live up here? In this cold?"

Ghost beeped once in response.

Ygritte made an amused face, "oh so the droid does speak, afta all? So... 'G2D2... 'Ghost and Direwolf model astromech'? Sounds right and propa'!'"

"You know how ta read, do ya?" another wildling, Tormund Giatsbane, said, slapping his knees whilst laughing and taking a swig. She stood, smiling, "'course I do, I'm not just this droid's spearwife, I'm a scrapper, and I got ta know what parts are worthy anything, only way ta do tha' is to know how ta read a bit," Ygritte answered, beaming toothily.

"As I was sayin', G2D2... No that sounds too fool to call you by. 'Ow bout just Ghost?"

Ghost beeped once, whirring whilst motioning in her direction. Ygritte smiled for a bit. She would not say it to her fellow free folk, but she had always dreamt up finding an advanced droid and keeping it for herself. "So, Ghost, you's want to know how us free folk live up in this cold?"

Ghost shone his light again, this time silently. Ygritte continued on, "well, legends say tha' a long time ago, us free folk made a pact with the Children of the Force. They were close with the old gods of the woods and the winter. When otha peoples started showing up and tree farmin', the Children cursed the planet with a winter without end. They used the Force. Ha' you fancy starmen with ya clone troopas and ya queer alien gods ever even heard of the Force?"

Ghost stared at her silently. Ygritte looked off, "well... the Force is a bit weird, innit? It's... a sort of mind, or spirit maybe? The spirit of the gods, all come together, and the gods, they're what's alive and what's good in the wind, in the forest, in the snowdrifts, and sun. There's a god in you, a god in me here, and Tormund and Orell, in the eagle, and in our mammoth. The Force comes from all of us, and some use it for good, like the Children, and some for bad like the dragons or the Knights of the Republic."

Ghost considered all that she said. He did not fail to notice how Ygritte's strong accent faded away as she described the Force. She was obviously an intelligent girl, who knew much and more about the outside world. Far more than his previous master did at that same age.

The wildlings and their stolen astromech arrived at the wall the following morning, after camping out and sleeping in a cave just within the forest visible from the wall. The Night's Watchmen would clear a few hundred yards of space between the wall and the forest, and at night would allow no one safe passage through the wall, and would not trade with the wildlings. Had they approached the wall before sunrise they would have met a swift end at the explosive end of blasterfire. As it was, they were met the gate by a few stewards of the Night's Watch.

"State your business," barked out one of the Night's Watchmen, a young man with medium-length black hair, a short beard, and a long, somber face. Ygritte frowned at him before shouting "mighty rude, even for a Crow... We found this here fancy outer space droid. We're trying ta see if we can sell 'im for scrap." The Night's Watchman frowned, paused, and then looked to his side at another steward, a young overweight man. "Sam, have a look at the thing will ya? Never was much to know about droids myself personally."

The fat Night's Watchman, Sam, approached the astromech, and began fiddling around with him. Before he could be appraised for what he might be worth, Ghost began playing Daenerys' message. "Help me, Eddard Stark, you're my only hope."

"Gods be good! That scared the living hell out of me," said Sam. He looked more closely at the beauty in the hologram. "Wait, hold on just a minute. That is Queen Daenerys Targaryen!" The message played again, "Help me, Eddard Stark, you're my only hope." Sam turned to his fellow steward, "you hear that Jon? Queen Daenerys Targaryen herself wants to speak with your father."

Ygritte loudly interjected. "Well tha' sounds to me like we're getting paid well for our invaluable services. We got us a fancy outer space droid meant for a southron lord from a _darth_." Sam pulled Jon aside.

Sam began whispering, "look Jon, this droid is probably near-invaluable. There's no way we can actually pay these wildlings back for what they've brought us here. I think you may have to escort one of them back to your father for proper payment."

Jon considered that, saying "well it would be dishonorable to not pay them right. Besides I think it might be of interest to my Lord Father how these wildlings came into the possession of something so damn invaluable." Jon turned around for Ygritte to be right in his face, beaming. "I volunteer. Always wanted to go south of tha' wall myself." Jon responded, "aye, well then follow me." The two walked up to the gate with Ghost, whilst Jon's friend Eddison Tollett joined Sam back with the other wildlings.

"Go back to the cave, I'm sure it won't be much more than a few days!" Ygritte shouted to Tormund, who responded, "aye, don't fuck that pretty boy to hard! Might want a round myself" He laughed heartily, and began leading them back while retelling the joke to Orell.

Jon frowned in slight annoyance and embarrassment, before he explained the situation to Bowen Marsh on the other side of the gate. The First Steward advised him to tell his father to contact imperial authorities over the RavenNet, as Daenerys Targaryen was a pretender and a turncloak. Jon considered the advice as he, Ygritte, and Ghost went down the tunnel in awkward silence.

Ygritte walked up closer to Jon, and "so Jon... Stark? What's a lordling like you doing up here on the cold, miserable as shit wall?" Jon glanced at her, before responding "my name is Jon Snow. There is much honor to be found in manning the wall. Wildling raids have killed many innocent people in the past, and more than that there are vast threats from the dark side of the Force in the Lands of Always Winter. Rumors out tell of a dark lord of the Sith leading an army of skinchangers and undead thralls."

"Aye, fair enough. Darth Maul they call him, though he calls himself the 'Night's King.' Don't think he wants to attract attention from your fancy Galactic King, though" Ygritte said.

"He's not my king. My father was once a stern supporter of the republic. And I have seen Robert Baratheon ignore countless dark side threats from across the Galaxy. The fat oaf was no king of mine, and now that a lowly Gamorrean's gone and speared him through the heart, his gangly son is charged with control over the Galaxy. Bloody ridiculous, you ask me."

Ygritte laughed heartily, and then lightly punched Jon on the shoulder "some talk for a kneeler!" Jon could not help himself in being somewhat amused by the strange wildling girl. She reminded him a little bit of Arya.

Ghost silently approved of Jon.

* * *

Reviews would be greatly appreciated!


	2. Force Grip

Stormtroopers dressed in stark, white armor marched down the stoney corridors of the Death Star in lockstep fashion. Their blasters at the ready, they moved in perfect unison, for they were zealots, true believers in the God of Seven Faces. They bore seven-pointed stars upon their helmets, the insignia of their God and the Seven Galactic Kingdoms. They followed behind two of the most important men in the whole galaxy. The ever-imposing Darth Vader, with his dragon helm always sneering, walked just ahead of a thin, older gentleman. The man's bald head was neatly shaven, save for the sides, which connected with his short, greying beard. He wore the dark clothing of an officer of the Galactic Navy, and displayed proudly the colored squares signifying his ranks of Grand Moff and Galactic Warden. On the left side of his chest he wore a hand-shaped brooch, which a miniature red lightsaber. This man, Lord Tywin Lannister, held the whole Galaxy in the palm of his hand, as though he were some great lion playing with a small mouse.

The Great Lord and the Dark Lord walked into the Small Council Chamber within the Death Star, and the members of the Small Council quieted their already hushed whispers and plots. As Lord Tywin had envisioned it, this massive space station was not merely a weapon of mass destruction, but also a mobile command station wherein the Galactic King, and moreover, he himself and his House of Lannister could rule the galaxy uncontested, and totally secure in their power. Casterly Rock, and the golden core of Planet Naboo could not so compare to the gem that was his death star. The Tywin Doctrine would make sure that there was a lasting galactic peace, and would ensure the legacy of House Lannister. There was just the pesky issue of Stannis Baratheon, whose war effort from Cloud City had recently strengthened itself after a long decline following the Battle Over King's Landing.

"Good morning, my lords," greeted the fat eunuch Varys, standing and then bowing as the two lords made to sit down. Seated at the Small Council table were Grand Maester Pycelle, Master of Credits Lord Petyr Baelish, Lady Olenna Tyrell, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard Jaime Lannister, Master of Laws Lord Kevan Lannister, and the quite fat High Septon. Most of the Small Council members were dressed in dark military clothing, save for Jaime, who was dressed in golden stormtrooper armor. The High Septon wore a crown of kyber crystals from the world of Ilum, and all seated were proudly displaying sigils and heraldry on their chests in the form of colored squares, brooches, or small patches.

Lord Tywin nodded at Varys, before sitting down. Darth Vader stood tall next to him, yet all in the room knew who the true power in the Seven Kingdoms was. Everyone was quiet as Lord Tywin quickly scanned through a few screens of information. He looked up at his younger brother Kevan Lannister, asking "what news out from Dragonstone. Vader failed to recapture the plans for the Death Star. Any progress on that front?"

Lord Kevan cleared his throat, "security footage within the _Tantive IV_ revealed that the upstart usurper Daenerys Targaryen, who is now ready for questioning, loaded the information disk onto an astromech G2D2 unit. We have, as of yet, been unable to track its exact location. Obviously it landed down on this 'World of Winter.' The landing site has been determined after interrogating local wildlings. Tracks were found, but the exact path taken has yet to be determined. This model astromech is designed for winter weather, so it is most like still travelling by itself, or perhaps has been broken for scrap by wildlings."

Lord Tywin considered the information presented to him. "If the astromech has been damaged beyond repair, and at worst the information disk is in the hands of those nothing barbarians, then there is nothing to worry about. Still, I think it most prudent to make a greater effort in tracking down at least the remaining scrap parts of the unit."

Lord Petyr Baelish piped up, "aye, my lord. This weapon will give the Galactic Kingdoms the ability to exercise full control over the galaxy. Even the uncharted Dothraki Starfield could be under our control. If any of the rebel factions got their hands on the plans, who knows what sort of weakness in the weapon they could take advantage of. It is our only hope in securing total control. And of course, _I_ secured most of the funding from the now-defunct Galactic Senate."

Lord Tywin eyed the small man with disdain. He considered him nothing more than an upstart, whom had married far above his station. This was true in a literal sense, as this man, "Littlefinger," had grown up on a low-gravity space station in orbit of Planet Vale, which was ruled by House Arryn. He had married the widow of Lord Jon Arryn, a noble man, good and true, whom had been instrumental in constructing the evil imperial regime which now ruled over the majority of the galaxy.

"The same Galactic Senate, which, if my old mind remembers correctly, you and your wife Lysa Arryn campaigned the hardest to dissolve. Funny, how they were the only entity stopping you from legally taking control over Harren's World, Lord Baelish," opined Grand Maester Pycelle, the doddering old fool. Baelish smiled, "yes, it is funny how things worked out that way, isn't it? And 'Grand Maester,' I would appreciate it if you titled me properly, in kind. I am, after all, the Grand Moff of the Trident and Vale Sectors."

Lord Tywin had enough of Lord Baelish. "Vader. Littlefinger appears tired. Send him to his bedchambers." Littlefinger got up, shouting "wait, my lords! Agh-" as Darth vader stepped forward, and raised his hand in a choking motion. He used the Force to tighten Lord Baelish's throat, raising him up in the air. "This paltry Death Star does not even begin to compare to the power of the dark side of the Force, 'Littlefinger.' I find your lack of faith in our empire... **disturbing**." Lord Baelish ceased his squirming, and finally passed out. Vader took him in his arms, and carried him out of the room.

"He really is a cunt, isn't he?" Lady Olenna Tyrell respectfully asked the High Septon.

Tywin smirked arrogantly, and Jaime hid his disgust at his father underneath his helmet. "Now, onto further matters..."

* * *

The trip from the Wall to Winterfell was relatively quick as three rode in a black, glass-domed, snowspeeder, but Jon found the silence between him and the redheaded wildling girl, Ygritte, to be painfully awkward. The white astromech, of course, added very little to the conversation. Ygritte was uncouth, loudmouthed, and unladylike. 'So is Arya, I suppose. But Arya is young, and has much to learn. Ygritte is a woman grown.' He glanced at her briefly. Despite her messy hair, and toothy grin, he found her to be quite attractive. 'I have my vows,' he thought to himself.

Ygritte smiled knowingly, "you know, _Jon Snow_, us Free Folk have been killin' Starks for hundreds of years now." Jon Snow continued staring ahead, "yes, and this is why we've built a giant wall to keep you lot out."

"Oh, you kneelers and ya wall! Always buildin' barriers and making up rules - it's you lot that can't handle a little bit o' freedom."

Jon considered her words, and responded "if having less freedom means a warm house, running water, and safety, then so be it."

"Oh? So ya mean to tell me you take no issue with the prison those Galactic Kings been building round ya father?" She motioned a circle, and then tightened her hand. "Your king's hand has got 'the Ned' by his balls. Seems hardly safe to me." Jon stared ahead sulkily. "Perhaps you've a point. Things have only been getting worse since the Clone Wars." Ygritte perked up, "please crow, tell me you've got clones at your castle. Never seen one for myself, only ever in pictures over the RavenNet." Jon hid his surprise at her apparent ability to both access and navigate the RavenNet. 'Where could this girl have possible learned how to read?'

Ygritte anticipated his question. "I can tell by ya gormless look that ya wonderin' how I use the RavenNet, aye?"

Jon fired back at her "are all of you thieving wildlings so disrespectful, or are you just one of a kind in that regard?"

Ygritte laughed, "ah, finally some emotion... Well, us thieving wildlings have a habit o' getting on you kneelers' bad sides. So much so that you slay us in scores, ya burned down Hardhome, and you've shut us out behind a wall to deal with that Darth Maul and his wights. So forgive me, 'm'Looord.' And to answer ya question, of course I'm special. I'm a spearwife in Mance Rayder's host. And I've been kissed by fire," she said as she mussed with her hair.

"If you don't hold your tongue, you'll end up kissed by blasterfire," Jon retorted. 'King Turncloak's host, huh-?' Ygritte leaned against him, her blue eyes just inches from his face as Jon swerved over a snowbank. Jon steadied the snowspeeder. "So am I to believe that you, a fine young man of the Night's Watch, sworn to defend the realms of men, would shoot a pretty little wildling girl?" Jon stared at her, "if I thought she was an enemy to the realm, then yes."

Ygritte considered his words. "Jon Snow, did you ever hear the tragedy of King Bael the Bard?" Jon glanced at her, and shook his head 'no.' "I have heard tales of many bards in my lifetime, but never of one by the name of Bael. Much less one who was king." Ygritte nodded, and responded, "didn't think so. You kneelers wouldn't tell each other this sort of story."

"It's a legend among the Free Folk. King Bael was King-Beyond-the-Wall, so clever, and so talented that he could even outsmart your high lords. Some Stark called him craven. So he vowed revenge on your house. He disguised himself as a bard, and snuck into Winterfell, where he sang day and night for the lord, and asked only for a blue winter rose in return. This, he was given. The following day, that Lord Stark's daughter was missing, with only a blue winter rose in her place. Lord Stark sent his men to search beyond the wall, but they failed. Then one day, she returned with a babe in her arms. She and Bael had hidden beneath the crypts of Winterfell. That babe became the Lord of Winterfell." This last part was said to Jon as though it should be terribly surprising.

"So you're saying that both of us have wildling blood running through our veins." Ygritte laughed, "now you're getting it, Jon Snow. Maybe you do know a thing or two afta' all. But I'm not quite done yet. I did say it was tragedy, didn't I?"

Jon Snow sighed, tiring of the girl's antics. "Aye, you did. Why is it a tragedy then?"

"Later on, Bael became King-Beyond-the-Wall, and had to face the Lord of Winterfell in combat. Bael cut off his own son's arm, and then his son cut of his own father's head. When the Lord of Winterfell brought back Bael's rotted head, the Lord's mother, Bael's old lover, threw herself from atop the highest tower. That, young crow, is why it is a tragedy." She moved her hand onto Jon's knees, whilst he stiffly attempted to ignore her touch.

"Glad to hear that you wildlings are not so savage to consider kingslaying to not be abomination," Jon responded brusquely.

"Aye, but you lot are all kinslayers. In a galaxy with countless alien races, us wildlings, and you so-called 'Northmen,' we are kin. We are both of us the blood of the First Men."

Jon sighed in annoyance, but could not deny that he found the wildling girl to be somewhat amusing.

* * *

Lord Eddard Stark was thus far having an incredibly stressful few days. He had been awoken early one morning by his wife Lady Catelyn Stark, with the utterly devastating news that the Galactic Senate had just been dissolved. The continued existence of the Galactic Senate, and keeping an uneasy and relative peace in the galaxy had been the life's work of his foster father, Lord Jon Arryn. He had only just weeks ago died under mysterious circumstances, when the appalling news broke that Jon's widow, Lysa Arryn, had remarried to Littlefinger, a cunning upstart who had once dueled with Lord Eddard's own brother. This was just the latest event in a long line events which proved to him and his wife that House Lannister and its lackeys were gearing themselves up to finally take full control of the galaxy.

This was before his wife had arrested a drunk Tyrion Lannister and one of his men, holding them up in the crypts of Winterfell as temporary prisoners. This news could not get out just now, what with the recent spotting of _the King's Justice_, a super star destroyer, over the planet's atmosphere. Since then there had been a higher numbers of stormtroopers parading through the castle. He could feel Lord Tywin's vice grip around his neck tightening every minute of every day.

The arrival of Jon Snow from the Wall was a welcome sight for poor Ned. The Lord of Winterfell had been discussing recent events with Lady Catelyn, and Maester Luwin atop a balcony overlooking the centermost courtyard of Winterfell. It was all he could do these days to watch his sons, and daughter Arya, practice archery. It was the only thing he could do to take his mind off the dangerous game being played up above them in the stars.

Lord Eddard stood, "Jon! It's good to see you my boy," he said, descending down the stairs, as Bran and Arya ran to hug Jon. Robb smiled at his brother, hugging him, and asking "how's the wall been treating you, miserable as they make it out to be?" Jon smiled while messing up Arya's hair. He looked up at Robb, and said "well. It is certainly very tall." That drew a small laugh from both Robb and Ned, who approached Jon, drawing him in, saying "give your lord father a hug!"

Jon briefly locked eyes with Lady Catelyn, who turned away from him, and walked away from the balcony. Ygritte had been following a few steps behind with Ghost, admiring the gigantic castle. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before. Though it was not as tall as the Wall, it was far more ornate, and complicated. The closest thing she had ever seen for reference was pictures on the RavenNet, and the burnt ruins of Hardhome.

Maester Luwin approached the small group, and glanced at both Ygritte and Ghost, before lightly hugging Jon. "So what brings you here to Winterfell, Jon?" He asked, perceptively. Perhaps his family members had been under the impression that he was merely shirking his duties for a short period of reprieve. Jon smiled at him, before glancing back the astromech, which beeped just once at Ned. The Lord of Winterfell's eyes lit up with recognition. "Ghost?"

Jon looked at his father with a confused expression on his face. "You've met this droid before?"

Ned turned to look at him, nostalgia and sadness coloring the expression on his face. He approached the droid before lightly rubbing his head. "Ghost here used to belong to my sister, your aunt Lyanna." Ghost beeped up at him. If cold, unfeeling machines had emotions, then Ghost was feeling happy at reuniting with one of his old friends.

"Who's the girl?" Arya asked while making a silly face in Jon's direction.

Jon looked slightly annoyed, and blushed just a bit, before answering "this wildling and her compatriots found Ghost out beyond the wall. They brought him to the wall to sell for scrap. It's a small bit of bartering we do with the wildlings. We do not consider them our primary enemies, but rather the dark side threats beyond the wall are our primary enemies. And well, he came preloaded with a small message..." Jon glanced at Ygritte, who reached down and pressed a button on Ghost's face.

A holographic projection of Daenerys Targaryen appeared on the floor, and began speaking.

"Lord Eddard Stark. Years ago you fought against my father and brother in the Clone Wars. Now I am begging you. There is an even greater existential threat here. House Lannister has usurped the Republic, House Targaryen, and will soon be set to replace House Baratheon as the Lords Paramount of the Galaxy. I was going to visit you in person, and in secret, but my operations working alongside my Unsullied exposed my location to that scum Vader. My ship is being harried, and my mission has failed. Have no doubt, I want to be queen, but only so that I may do good. If House Lannister is allowed uncontested rule over the galaxy, then we are all doomed. There is information vital to the survival of the rebellion loaded on to this droid. Please, I am begging you, utilize your resources to ensure the safe delivery of this droid, of Ghost, to Dragonstone. This is the Hour of the Wolf, our darkest hour. Help me, Eddard Stark, you're my only hope."

Ygritte smiled, as the importance of this message finally and totally dawned on her. With the credits she would receive for this droid, she should be able to finally end Darth Maul's conquests beyond the wall.

Lord Eddard frowned. It now became very obvious to him that time had, all of a sudden, become of the utmost importance. He glanced at a slightly crooked, white stone which was above the gatehouse leading into the courtyard. He raised his hand in its direction, and removed the stone by using the Force. He calmly guided down four metal cylinders, and held his eyes closed. His children, and the wildling girl all gaped with open mouths at him. They were totally unaware that he could use the Force. He picked the cylinders up off the ground. He coughed before raising his voice, "anyone that can hear me now, I hereby order you to evacuate the castle, and to aid others in organizing the evacuation!"

He looked at Bran, and ordered him to "go retrieve Cat, and meet us at the crypts!" Bran took off in his mother's direction.

"All of you, come with me! You too, wildling girl!" Eddard commanded.

Jon looked at him with confusion, before asking him, "what are we doing father?"

Lord Eddard Stark drew his blue lightsaber, _Ice_, before answering, "we're going on a rescue mission."

* * *

I thought about posting this in the crossovers section, but I figured it would probably do best here, and probably better here than in the Star Wars section.

Reviews would be greatly appreciated!


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